Bus Report #283

Every morning on the 22, it's the same thing.
I end up staring at a dirty, lavender faux suede hat with a crushed brim that is on the head of a person (gender undetermined) who always sits a few rows ahead of me.
Sometimes, I forget what day it is and wonder if I've gone crazy.
Because this person is always sitting in front of me.
Every day.
Of course, that's not unusual since there are a ton of regulars on my route and I see them every day, too.
Like the Catfish Face man, or the woman-who-looks-like-a-model-but-isn't, both of whom were in their usual seats.

A woman got on at Eddy wearing black pajamas with pink bows all over them.
She had a jacket and shoes on, but she must have been cold. In a practical sense, I can't imagine wearing my PJs out and then going home and getting into bed with them on. I hope she doesn't do that.
The woman who always wears the frilly, girly dresses was on the bus, but she was wearing jeans. Still had her dark sunglasses on, though.
The creepy bearded dude, the girl with the bad dye job and the sewing ladies were all on my bus, too.

I decided to ride all the way up the hill today and get a coffee at Farley's.
Too bad they were closed (but set to open at 8 AM).
I walked down the hill. It was eerily quiet for Potrero Hill, and wet and cold and still.
It felt great, even though I was coffee-less.